


Tin Man

by kyanve



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:25:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyanve/pseuds/kyanve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Single scene.</p><p>Set after the end of the Inheritance/Simon arc; Mukuro is recovering from his time in Vendicare, and ends up borrowing Chrome to be extra hands to deal with the injuries.  Vaguely 6996.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tin Man

Mukuro had found ways to ensure privacy for the old theatre. It helped that the building was in bad enough shape for the normal stairs and elevator to be out of commission; one of the first things he did on moving back in was make sure he could detach the fire escape ladder for a while.

He'd been seen to well enough on the boat, with more than one Sun Guardian handy who was familiar with using their abilities to heal. He could've done without attention from Lussuria and his peacock, but it was a temporary annoyance, and in the long run, meant that when they made it back, he was at least well enough to use his illusions to prop himself up and walk back into Kokuyo as if nothing was wrong... something that lasted about a day.

The summons for Chrome was silent; not even quite speaking through the link, just a flash of presence and beckoning to where he was. The lack of the ladder would keep anyone else out; Chrome was just as capable as he was of replacing it with an illusion, just long enough to get into the hallway and the theatre.

The only real light was from the afternoon sun outside, already dimming with evening; he'd left his coat at the wardrobe in the side room, his shirt draped over the back of the couch, and seemed to be fine - full health, no injuries, not even any visible scars, although there was a small betrayal that he'd brought a small side-table by the couch with bandages, disinfectants, and raided medical supplies.

There was a small squeak betraying her presence; while she caught him waving her closer, out of the doorway, her eyes were on the ground the whole way, already flushing.

"I may need to ask something of you." He was as calm, controlled, and measured as ever; it wasn't asking for help, it was a natural part of the routine.

Her answer was a small, confused noise of query, looking up - although she did keep her focus on the pillows next to him.

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "For now, nothing large; I need an extra pair of hands - although I may need you to keep the others busy from time to time over the next few weeks. I'm not quite myself after Vendicare and everything that happened, so I won't be able to make as many appearances as I'm sure will be expected."

She nodded, finally shifting to look at him, head tilted. "Extra hands?"

He closed his eyes, the usual smug and control leaking out with a tired sigh as he let go of the illusion. One moment he was whole and healthy; the next he was thin, covered in fading bruises and scrapes, old scars criss-crossing here and there, pale, and skin over bones, with an impressive set of bandages still covering what was left of the wound Hibari had left. Between the atrophy and isolation of the Vendicare and the beating he'd taken while Spade had his body, not even a few days under the care of the best Sun users in the Vongola was going to have him anywhere near "up to par", and he was, honestly, less slouching onto his knees, than propping himself up on his elbows, already feeling the weight of what activity he'd had. "I need to change the bandages, and clean it - in back, as well; and I'll need time to rest, without relying on the illusion." It would keep him going, and might make it easier to regain his strength once he was more healed, but for now "keeping active" was slowing his ability to recover.

The first reaction was a sharp intake of breath - and a moment later she was at his side, propped on one knee on the couch next to him, tugging the side-table within reach, then working at the old bandages to get them removed. Mukuro froze, briefly, then returned to staying still as he was; it was remarkable, how quickly she could find her feet and act when she forgot to worry about if she could or not, and for all his phrasing of "extra set of hands", he wasn't sure he'd be able to even do that much without the illusions; she wasn't making any extra show of fussing over his weakness, wasn't making him say anything to admit to it, just ... quietly tending to it.

It didn't mean there weren't some things that were filed away as she worked - things she knew not to comment on. She'd always known that he probably had one of the bar code tattoos, like Ken and Chikusa, but it was her first time seeing the mark on his shoulder blade. The circular scar around his red eye was usually covered with illusions. Some of his other scars were from fights, when he'd been younger, that much was certain - others were too regular, too controlled, too precise, all old and faded; vivisections and tests. She mostly managed to guess at where things were still tender or healing by where the fading bruises and marks were; while there were moments of pressure on healing bones, there wasn't so much as a sound from Mukuro, bits of pain something that were an old part of his existence, and even the antiseptics failed to get much of a reaction - just quietly enduring.

The injury from Hibari's chain-dart was still an angry mess of scabs and bits of raw new skin; somewhere in cleaning it and getting new padding for it, the extent of it sank in - how much damage there was, how easy it'd be for that to turn into a worse injury.

Mukuro had always been the one supporting her; and here there wasn't much she could do besides clean it - and even that could so easily go wrong. It was the first time she'd seriously been faced with the possibility of him being fragile, of the possibility that a failure of hers could hurt him.

She hadn't quite realized her hands had been shaking with the padding until his hand was over hers - unsteady, still, but enough to help hold it stable. He'd shifted his weight to be resting on the other arm, not feeling sure of sitting up. "It's alright ... you're doing well, Chrome." She looked up to catch a calm smile. "You're stronger than you realize - this is just a small thing."


End file.
